Humanity's Final Round

Lyra POV

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. For thousands of years, humans were safe on Earth. It was a rich, vast, bountiful planet filled with people of all walks of life. Humanity had achieved peace, finally on the up and end when it came to harmonizing as a species. We cultivated the lands, worked together, and for once pollution was on the decline, the greenery starting to engross the world in a more beautiful light.

I think that’s what I miss the most.

The nature.

There are no trees in space. No greenery of any kind, just… an empty black void that we continue to float on.

It’s the fortieth anniversary of our departure. Many people are celebrating. I can hear them from where I’m kept. Many of the young don’t know any different than the commodities on this ship. Some who don’t know sports, Prom, or any of the things we took for granted. We thought our beautiful planet's sun still had a billion years or so.

We were wrong.

Someone somewhere calculated things wrong, and maybe it was on purpose. A disgruntled employee at NASA, or perhaps the sun simply had enough of us. We had one week. One week to figure out how to get to the eight ships our country said’ ‘Surprise! We were prepared!’ Other countries weren’t so lucky. Our massive monsters could hold hundreds of thousands, yet not millions like they needed to.

Families were separated and so many were left behind- too many. Hundreds of people chose to go out quietly with our burning planet.

I had been freshly married, only three weeks of young marital bliss. He drove us home and told me to pack our bags. I trusted him to always make sane decisions. He was still making phone calls when I came back downstairs and when my handsome, strong husband turned to look at me, my heart clenched. I knew then as he drove us towards the space station, that something was wrong, that he was bringing me to the station, but wouldn't be joining me. Tears welled up in my eyes but he kissed me hard, hands tangling in my hair. Pulling away breathless he said, “I have to take a different one. I’ll see you again, my love. I swear.”

The plan was for all the ships to meet on mars and scientists handpicked by the government would begin to cultivate it for civilians.

Two ships blew up while leaving, one faltered once it hit the atmosphere, and the other five?

Well, we don’t know.

The captain was supposed to wait for a signal to land on mars and since we never got it, we drifted. We never heard if it was safe to debark, or if any of the scientists even made it to start rebuilding. With no contact we just tried to live day by day on the ship, giving up hope of being the first colony on Mars. I never found out which ship my husband was on, but I still hope he’s okay somewhere. I like to think he remarried and is happy again, but my heart will always belong to him. He had been my childhood sweetheart. We met in grade school and never separated. Not until I forced my feet to walk onto the Ignatius. I loathe thinking about what he would say if he saw me now, beat down and tired.

Sometimes I wonder if it would be best if he had perished early on those three ships that didn't make it, then there would be no opportunity for madness. I dream of him smiling brightly amongst the darkness I now live in.

While they all celebrate I know that we won’t last much longer on this ship. Maybe two more weeks if we’re lucky before the food starts to finally run out and we are forced to ration the measly amount of lab-grown crops which will leave us more malnourished than anything. I’ve said as much, over and over and fucking over again.

That’s why I’m on the lowest level, with people who have ‘lost’ their minds. Space travel took a toll early in the journey, some letting the madness take them rather than deal with the reality of what we've been through. I never blamed them, but I pitied them.

Now I am one of them because I am ‘going to cause a panic’. It’s bullshit. I’m almost sixty years old, but I guess a part of me understands. There’s nowhere else for humanity to go. We’re all here, not because we want to be, but because it’s all we have, the last thread of our normalcy. My warnings would only snap that thread and then everyone would have to be on the lower levels.

I’ve lost count of how many days I’ve been down here, tied down to a bed with handmade rope while someone feeds me, cleans me. The worst thing is that there’s no light down here, only when the door opens. I've spent days trying to just sleep around the meal times so that my eyes would know some kind of light. The food that is spoon-fed to me this day is extra slimy. The half-assed bath is frustrating and degrading. I enjoy the fact that this person brings the smallest lantern with them so they can give me some semblance of care, but I can hear other people here. Some are tied down, others seem to slither on the ground in my wildest of nightmares. All I crave is peace when the caretaker is gone, but alas.

It's apparent that sleep wants to evade me and I lay awake, staring up into a different type of space void. It feels as if my eyes are playing tricks on me as I suddenly feel paranoid. Fear wells up in the pit of my stomach and the void rumbles around me. Moments pass and I think that maybe we've hit another asteroid field. Sometimes debris and big enough rocks will hit us, but we’ve never taken much damage before.

My heart races as alarms start to blare and it brings forth a flashing red light. I can now see cot upon cot of people hissing at the brightness, flooding towards the deeper recesses where the light doesn’t touch. I writhe in my bed, pulling at my restraints. There is no way I am dying down here. I’d rather do that in the safety of my room holding the photo of my husband on our wedding day.

The ship shakes some more and I become frantic. Something must be happening. Voices can be heard from the hallway and I wonder if we have finally made contact with extraterrestrials. For years people whispered about the possibilities, but it sounded terrifying to me, meeting beings from another world. Humanity truly only wanted a celestial being to try and save us. I worried they would eat us.

Dozens of footsteps are running back and forth in the hallway and then suddenly the door of the handle jiggles.

“Open this door!” A gruff voice says.

“I can’t! I’m restrained!” I wheeze back, hoping the person will take pity on me and leave. It is all I can ask for that perhaps the stranger will assume I'm saying that for a nefarious reason and just walk away.

After a moment of silence, loud bangs begin on the door as if they’re trying to kick it in. My hope deflates into the blaring sirens, but I won't go quietly. I've never been like those who chose to stay on earth, like those who gave up, and I don't want ot start now.

Fear is all-encompassing as I fight to free myself.

Not like this. Not like this.

Just as the rope holding me down begins to start to fray the door flies open, landing on the ground with a loud thud. My heart is in my throat as I try to gaze upon my killer. He is tall, well sculpted, and holding weapons I’ve never seen before.

Before I even know it I am screaming. In the seconds it takes for the sound to travel he chuckles darkly. “No one can hear you,” he says, with that same gruff voice from the other side of the door. I stop, the red light not enough to let me see his details, but his outline is becoming clearer. I see a well-defined chin, aged hands, and muscled thighs. He approaches slowly, every step a reminder that this is my death march. My eyes are still struggling to adjust to the sudden brightness of the hallway door being left open for so long.

Having been in the dark for all this time I wonder if I’ll suffer permanent vision loss, but I guess it doesn’t matter now. Not when a man is walking towards me, armed to his teeth with what I can only guess is a new type of gun of some sort. Finally, things begin to solidify, colors become balanced and I’m immediately taken aback by the luminescent blue eyes.

This foreign sight through my human eyes has me recoiling, shutting my eyes tight.

“Just kill me already. Please. Let me go be with my husband.”

I still wear my wedding ring, a piece he had custom-made where the band holds our initials. I feel the air grow cold as he approaches, and then his weapon clatters to the floor. It feels as if he is moving his hands up above me, over my face, and then down my body.

“Fuck.” he says, and my eyes fly open. Looking down at me is a face I thought I’d never see again. The man I dreamt about, the only person I’ve ever let touch me. “You're alive.” He choked out, and it's then I see the salt and pepper hair, the scars on his arms, the tattoo on his neck.

I stay silent for though this is my husband's body, those eyes are not the brown ones I said "I do" to. Those glowing orbs are terrifying. He stares at me a heartbeat longer before letting out a string of curses. I see he still has the same frown, the same lips, and even the same distinct look. However, the luminescence is causing my blood to turn to ice.

“Forgive me, Ly.” He picks up his weapon and I want to cry at this twisted irony. The universe hates me so much that my end will come by the hands that I love? I look on expectantly, wary of having to exist now. Let this be the end for me, I pray.

He turns his weapon around and raises the butt over my head. I frown, realizing all too late that death won't be coming, only more perpetual darkness. "Julian,” I whisper as the weapon hits my forehead, rendering me unconscious and plunging me into my world of nightmares.